My neck still hurts from looking up, and my mind is still mulling over the spiritual lessons hidden in Redwood forests. After years of desiring to see these oldest of all living organisms on earth, the Lord was gracious to allow us to finally see them in real time. They did not disappoint nor did they fail to act as the straight and tall pointers their Creator intended them to be.
The Necessity of Fog
Redwood forests exist in only four locations in the world. Oddly enough, heavy fog is their critical success factor. These gentle giants require the dense, daily fog known as the Marine Layer to receive enough water to survive, gathering a shocking 40% of their required hydration from the fog.
As someone who struggles with anxiety and depression, I have acquired a natural distaste for the mental, spiritual, and emotional fogs that accompany them; however, the Redwoods were a sweet reminder that God does not waste pain and appoints each season appropriately for His good purposes. The very fogs of confusion and lack of clarity that I hate can be clouds of necessary provision for my soul. They teach me to depend upon Him and to walk by faith rather than sight.
As the famous hymn writer William Cowper so poetically wrote in God Moves in a Mysterious Way, “Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take; / The clouds ye so much dread / Are big with mercy and shall break / In blessings on your head.”
An Indwelling Protector
Redwood trees have a strange, all-purpose protector, and it is not the Lorax. High concentrations of tannic acid act as anti-fungal pesticides and fire proofing for these tested survivors. While unseen, this internal protector enables Redwoods to survive the would-be catastrophic forest fires that are so common on the West Coast. While we were walking in their sufficient shade, it was not uncommon to see fire damage that ran upwards of twenty to thirty feet up the trunks of some Redwoods. However, the tannic acid concentrations enable them to withstand the incredible heat. As such, the older trees remain standing even after devastating forest fires.
As believers in Christ, we have a powerful, indwelling preserving agent in the Holy Spirit. Unseen, through clearly present, the Third Person of the Trinity provides divine empowerment and strengthening that enables believers to remain standing even through the countless trials that life on this broken globe affords. Christ never promised us lives of ease and comfort, but He did promise that all who rely upon Him will be preserved by the Holy Spirit who is the seal of our inheritance (see Ephesians 1:13 and John 16:33).
A Rooted Community
Mature Redwoods can grow upwards of three-hundred feet tall, which is taller than a 30-story building. For something so toweringly tall, these trees have shockingly shallow root systems (between 6 and 12 feet deep, which is proportionately small for such size). In fact, they do not even have a taproot. Rather, they have root networks that reach 100 feet on every side. Their roots intermingle with their neighboring Redwoods, creating an interlocking strength amongst them.
While believers are, indeed, called to be rooted in the Scriptures and the Word of God (see Psalm 1), we are also called to be inter-dependent upon others in the body of Christ. What we usually assume to be you (singular) commands through our individualistic, Western lens of reality are often y’all (plural) commands in the New Testament (see Ephesians 3:17 and James 5:13-16).
While we were walking through the forest floor, I kept waiting for a larger-than-life pinecone to fall on my head, causing a concussion (sounds dramatic, but some of us are gifted at catastrophic thinking). Shortly thereafter, we came to learn that the pinecones on these fellas are only olive-sized. They can afford such small pinecones because reproduction rarely happens through pinecones. Rather, mature Redwoods tend to sprout new saplings directly from the root systems. Thus, it is not uncommon to find what they call “Fairy Rings” in which a taller, more mature mother tree is surrounded by adolescent trees in a circle. Even after the mother tree dies, her buried root system can continue to sprout and reproduce.
While I am not saying believers spontaneously generate and propagate new believers in like manner, I do long for God to be able to use the crumbs from my walk with God to feed others. I long to leave a legacy of faith that I pass on to my children who pass it along similarly to their children (see 2 Timothy 1:4 and 3:15).
I am so thankful that creation can preach without a word the glories of its Creator (see Psalm 19). I am thankful that these gentle giants raise their branches pointing to the King of Righteousness. Being in their shadow makes me long to be a similar pointer, crooked though I may be!